Chapter 1: A Walk to Remember
Noah T. Thompson—known simply as “NoTT” to friends and family—had always been an ordinary teenager. Nothing about him seemed to stand out. He wore the same faded jeans and hoodies day after day, his sneakers worn down to thin, frayed soles. He wasn’t overly popular or particularly athletic. He wasn’t the smartest kid in his class, nor was he a slacker. He existed somewhere in the middle—a quiet, comfortable spot where he could slip by unnoticed.
This evening, the sidewalks of his sleepy hometown were calm. A light drizzle had started, the kind that clung to the air and settled as beads on his skin. Not that he minded. It suited his mood.
He had stayed up far too late the previous night, binging a new series that had pulled him into its universe. There was a thrill in the mystery, the unpredictable plot twists, the feeling that something truly exciting was unfolding before his eyes. And now, as he trudged home from a long day at school, his lack of sleep weighed heavily on him.
His head drooped, his eyes half-lidded as he stared at the sidewalk, the lines between concrete slabs a kind of hypnotic pattern pulling him deeper into his exhaustion. Every so often, he’d blink harder, trying to snap himself awake.
NoTT was somewhere between daydreaming and sleepwalking when his foot caught on a small crack in the pavement. His tired body couldn’t catch itself, and with a startled gasp, he stumbled forward. Gravity seemed to seize him, pulling him down faster than he could comprehend.
The fall was a blur, but what followed was more shocking. As he hit the ground, the world seemed to slow, almost like he was watching himself from a distance. The dim rumble of an engine, which he hadn’t noticed at first, grew louder and closer. He was too tired, too dazed, to realize the danger.
A pair of bright headlights bore down on him, and in that split-second of clarity, he felt his heart jolt with terror. But it was too late.
The truck hit him before he could even attempt to move. The impact was fast, brutal, like the snap of a branch beneath a boot, and then—there was nothing.
For a moment, there was only silence.
